MG: a peep from me

sorry i've been so quiet for so long. i've had knits i wanted to show and thoughts i wanted to share, but i simply didn't know how. my blogging impulses are shifting... maybe because so much else in my life has changed; maybe i'm just ready to sprout branches, but i find myself wanting something different from this space than i'm used to.

when Kitty Kitty and i first started blogging, i was focused on the how of knitting. for me, it was records and musings to understand knitting techniques and the process of starting/continuing/completing knits. those were the things that fascinated. along with that, i had other hopes--that in charting the how of something finite, i would learn a bit about how i worked with non-threatening work in hand, since i was stuck on that part of my life. still am, probably.

but now i find myself wishing to look outwards, wanting the inspiration, purpose, and art aspects of craft. i want to boil down what i know, tend to the parts of knitting that feed me, and make things that are singularly meaningful--not just in the general richness-of-handmade-things sort of way (though that is good stuff) but personally meaningful somehow... probing the emotional and intellectual purposes of the things i craft. i'd like the objects themselves to say something, to me. up 'til now, i think i've mostly parleyed with the process. i don't know where i'm going; i don't know how my blogging will change; for now, i'm mostly a jar of questions... but winds are shifting.

* * * * *
serendipity carried me off to Tokyo a couple of weeks ago. it was an amazing trip; i still scarcely believe i was there...

tasty drinks & foreign currency

Asakusa Shrine gate

what Asakusa Nakamise *felt* like

handknit socks beneath the okonomiyaki table

MG: worth frogging?

i started the button bands for my twinkle hoodie yesterday, picking up and knitting a long stretch of ribbing with doubt eating away at me the whole while. three rows in, i put it aside out of indecision. i'm in that awkward space of wondering whether to knit on for a sweater that will be good enough or to start over for a better fit.

the hoodie is turning out rather fitted, when i wanted a more bloused look as in the book. it's not disastrous; it's wearable. but not the vision in my head. reasons to not frog: the sweater may bloom and stretch with wear, i won't have to buy a pricey new circular, i like the tight, nubby texture of the current fabric. reasons to frog: the current gauge eats up more yarn and i'm running low, the pockets are less tall than i'd like, the hood more shallow, it took only two days to knit the body, and it's just... you know... not quite what i had in mind.

Kitty Kitty advised me to finish the sweater, block it to the desired size, and wear it at least once before i decide... i don't know... i think it's good advice and would definitely help. but i'm also thinking i'm not a hard blocker. other than lace, i like my knits to be in a relatively relaxed and elastic state. and i'd have to wrangle it to the correct size every time i wash. and all the little sizing problems would trouble my sense of security when i wear it...

i think i've decided to frog.

MG: exquisite craftsmanship of the mundane

gapless gussets (no, not hapless)!! yay! gusset tips that worked for me: knitting instead of slipping the first stitch of the first row on the heel flap. picking up the extra stitches from behind and below the slipped edge (thanks, Kelly!). avoiding long floats adjacent to the slipped edge (thanks, Geannie!)

i'm reknitting the foot of the first stocking. there should be an FO before the week is out!

been reading the history sections of Nancy Bush's Folk Socks. passages like these make me want to devote my knitlife to exquisitely wrought stockings:

An exceptionally beautiful pair of silk stockings were worn by Gustavus II Adolphus... during his coronation in 1617... There are 25 stitches 32 rows to an inch [25 stitches to an inch! -mg]... The tops are turned down and are lined with white taffeta and have holes for attaching the stockings to breeches with ribbons. (page 15)

"The knitting of stockings gave many peasant laborers an independence they could not have had otherwise. Most mastered their skill and worked for themselves." and "Thirsk estimates that, in the sixteenth century... somewhere between 9 and 11 million pairs of stockings had to be produced every year." (page 19)

In good weather, knitters would gather together under the trees for parties, called veilles, where they would sit in circles and socialize, knitting all the while. In winter, they met in each other's homes to prepare wool and knit, while chatter and merrymaking continued. (page 25)

i don't pretend to comprehend the hardships of these knitters who knitted stockings for necessity, for survival, but it's wonderful to learn the facets--economy, warm social spheres, and loving craftsmanship when time was usually a dire possession--of the importance of socks; to infuse that respect into my knitting, myself, who has the luxury of knitting socks for pleasure.

until very recently, i wasn't a sock person. loved ones have mocked my shunning of socks. i've been known to trudge sock-less, in open-toe shoes, out onto a dusting of snow. but i'm falling in love as i knit. and i'm reminded i cared for socks once--when i was little girl and my mom brought back varied and fancy socks from overseas. bows. ruffles. long. short. multitudinous in color.

i guess what i don't love is the stringy, white stuff of mass production that is the prototype of modern socks. they never fit me; i'm always tugging, adjusting, fussing. somewhere along the line, i became disenchanted and desensitized by the over-abundance of the bland not-enough. i'm learning socks are more than that. :)

MG: restless

my lendrum still hasn't been able to join me in berkeley. i'm restless, especially with all the beautiful | spindling and spinning in the blogosphere.

winding yarn onto my spindle has always felt awkward, never found a neat and sensible way to suit me. when i read Eunny's post on the nostepinne, neurons fired simultaneously. i'm winding onto the spindle like a nostepinne. not sure i'm doing it correctly; need more practice.


knitting a cabled cap for someone whose favorite words include sammich and bulbous. i think there are color issues with the photo. the yarn is elann's Peruvian Highland Chunky in Chocolate Truffle and Tranquil Lagoon (medium slate blue with red heathery bits).


i didn't realize until i was knitting this hat... until i was making crosses with my little yellow cabling needle... cabling makes me feel loved. when i was eight or nine, my mom took an introductory knitting class and took me with her. i got to play with needles and yarn and books and learn along her side.

i don't know what it was about cables, but they apparently captured my attention. one night, supposed to be asleep, i huddled up in bed with various materials and taught myself how to cable from a book. i knitted for hours, happy and mesmerized... until i heard someone shuffling towards my room. i quickly pulled my covers over everything and pretended to be asleep. mom walked in, saw right through me and the big lump i was hiding.

mad i was still up, mad because she suspected i was up to trouble, she tugged back the covers and found my little swatch. she forgot to be angry; instead, she--amazed and with a hint of pride--asked me to show her how to make those cables.

MeowGirl: ready for the yoke, sort of

oregano's sleeves and body have arrived at the armscye. as you can see, the pieces are ready to be gathered onto a single circular needle to begin the yoke. um, almost ready, i still have to chart out the collar decreases and decide the angle of the raglan decreases. i'm not sure how it will work out, since i've not done this before. i will read some more, then chart, then knit, *then frog, then knit, then repeat from *.

oh, a link to share... i love everything about this story: the spirit and the resulting display (my favorite is the green glass tea set). knitting can be a purpose in itself, and we all need reasons to hop out of bed in the morning, don't we? i read about it on boingboing.

MeowGirl: blah...

the weather hasn't been knitblog-friendly lately. it's rainy season here in Berkeley, and the current lack of natural light in this apartment discourages good photo posts.

i received a flower i adore from Takeyah for the Pinku Flower Swap, and i've been trying to catch a good photo to share for days. to no avail, the clouds work against me.

WIP to report: a buttery-yellow baby hat for a brand new niece in the family. the yarn is Flake Cotton by Ironstone Warehouse, 24 sts. per 4"/10cm (according to label), and thick & thin. i casted 136 stitches onto 3.3mm needles. 2x2 ribbing is now 2 1/4" or almost 6cm along. not sure when to stop. how tall should baby hats be? hmm....

strawberry cream and chocolate ruffle update: all 80 ends are weaved in. i pinned the scarf to a towel and spray blocked it. once it dried, i excitedly pulled out the pins and... frustration. it's as curly as ever. i don't think i'll resort to what fluffa did, but i'm in definite need of something more drastic.

i close today with a heartwarming story. my little brother reads this blog, which has enabled an unexpected sharing of this obsession. he was visiting and asked me what i was doing from another room. i said "unraveling" (i was finished with the swatch for the above mentioned baby hat). his reply was "frogging?!?! why are you frogging?"

my little brother used knitting jargon spontaneously without prompt. i started giggling with delight. i can't imagine how we could have bonded over knitting w/o this blog... meow